


Magic Moon

by Roslyn_Frisson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roslyn_Frisson/pseuds/Roslyn_Frisson
Summary: Unexpected encounters lead to existential and mystical experiences. And sex.
Relationships: Braeden/Derek Hale, Braeden/Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Knock Knock

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a one-shot PWP, then promptly began pushing for a plot amongst the porn. It's about half-written, looks like there'll be around six chapters, three of which are mostly written. Comments greatly appreciated.

Stiles spun the steering wheel and let out the clutch as he swung the Jeep smoothly around a corner, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the gearshift knob as he idly considered where to go next. His plan to spend his first full day back with Lydia had taken a turn when he dropped by her parent’s house to find her mid-math-farr, a faraway look in her eyes as she stood in the middle of the her study, the room completely lined with white boards, all covered with neat-yet-still-incomprehensible equations.

Mrs. Martin, Natalie, had let him in with an apologetic expression. 

“She’s been like this all morning,” she whispered as she led him to the study door. “We were having breakfast together and she suddenly stood up and said ‘If the two is negative…’, flew in here and began scribbling and I’ve been afraid to disturb her.” 

Stiles had nodded in understanding. Nobody in their right mind (or at least without a death wish of some kind) disturbed one of Lydia’s math-farr spells. He stood by for a while with the faint hope she might snap out of it, but after several minutes of watching Lydia mumbling softly to herself, her gaze flying back and forth across black Sharpie squiggles like they held the answer to the universe (and for all he knew, they did!), he finally leaned across to kiss her cheek and whispered that he would see her later. Never looking away from her work, she blindly patted him on the head and hummed a distracted affirmative. 

Feeling slightly like a dismissed puppy, Stiles had waved at Natalie as he let himself back out. Now, tooling aimlessly around town, he was free as a breeze and a bit at loose ends. Scott and Malia weren’t back from school yet, and he wasn’t really eager to hang out with the kids (Liam and Mason made him feel ancient. Like “leathery old-timer dreaming about the good-old days” ancient.) (The fact that most of the “good-old” had been very, very bad not withstanding.) He drummed on the steering wheel along with the radio as he thought. Maybe he’d pop in at the station, bring his dad a salad for lunch. He had to do something to burn off the weird nervous energy that he had woken up with. 

New plan formed, he cracked his neck and shoulders and began to re-route, when he realized he had wandered near Derek’s old loft. He knew Derek still owned it, but he also knew the sourwolf had been out of town since they had all come together to quell the pixie uprising in Monterey Bay over Christmas break. The whole pack followed a complicated round robin check-in schedule so that no one went more than a day or so without somebody knowing where everyone was (186 days with zero kidnappings/mysterious disappearances), but Derek’s latest contacts had been short and perfunctory, even for him.  
The Jeep swung down the street towards the loft almost without Stiles’ volition and he was surprised at how not surprised he was to see the familiar shape of a certain black Camaro parked in front. Prickles of excitement raced across his neck and arms and butterflies bloomed in his belly as he pulled in beside it and he wiped his suddenly moist palms on his khakis.

Wait a minute. Why wouldn’t Derek have let them know he was coming? Was he sneaking into town to pack up the last of his stuff? Surely not.

But the longer he sat there, the more likely that seemed. Why else would Derek be here without letting them know? The bastard! He was planning on disappearing again, dammit!

Stiles was halfway up the stairs before he even thought to use the freight elevator. He continued up without stopping, driven by righteous moral outrage, right up until he got to the big sliding door and Derek was not standing there waiting for him. Derek had to have heard him, even without the clanking of the elevator. But the door wasn’t closed all the way. So maybe Derek had opened it when he heard him coming and gone back to making tea or something?

Experience could batter an ounce of caution into even the most reckless soul and Stiles stood still for moment, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible as he strained to hear any hint of untoward activity. There was nothing. No sound at all was seeping out of the loft. No music playing, no kettle steaming, no “Get in here, Stiles.” Nothing.

Cautiously, Stiles set one hand against the big door, meaning to sneak it open another inch or two and peer inside, but the door, which usually took two hands and some muscle, was being way too cooperative and slid silently and completely open, exposing the dim interior of the loft. 

The huge arched window on the opposite wall of the large, open living space and the skylight above were the only sources of light and with it being relatively early, not much of it was finding its way inside. Stiles found himself squinting as he poked his head cautiously through the doorway, a prickle of unease snaking down his spine. A quick glance around didn’t reveal any obvious danger (no hidden dragon or crouching kanima), so Stiles took a careful step inside, only to start and clutch his chest as he realized the loft was not as empty as it had seemed.

A shadowed figure sat very still on the edge of the big bed in the corner and Stiles eased a little closer, willing his eyes to adjust to the gloom more quickly. With another start, he recognized the figure. 

“Braeden? Is that you? What are you doing…here?”

And the starts just kept coming.

It was indeed Braeden, staring at him with a shocked expression, but what Stiles had first taken for some kind of light-colored sports bra top and pale leggings moved in a very un-sports-bra-and-leggings manner, and, horrified, Stiles realized erstwhile bra-and-leggings were an altogether different set of hands and legs, not belonging to Braeden at all.

Then it got really weird.

Derek Hale’s beautiful face appeared above Braeden’s shoulder and what Stiles had at first interpreted as horror became a wave of lust and desire that nearly drove him to his knees. And then Derek said, in the sultriest, most carnal sounding voice Stiles had ever heard him use, “Stiles, come here.”

Stiles rallied for a moment.

“Dude! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were…I’ll go! I’ll just…go. Going now. Right now, I’m…going….”

But Stiles wasn’t going. He wasn’t even turning away. He felt transfixed, caught like a kite on a string to the vision of Derek’s hands flexing gently over Braeden’s breasts, thumbs caressing her darkly tinted nipples ever so slowly. Braeden stopped staring at Stiles and tipped her head back against Derek’s shoulder, a soft moan escaping her lips.

The movement startled Stiles out of his trance enough to repeat himself.

“I’ll go!”

Derek just kept looking at Stiles as he continued to caress Braeden. He dipped his head without losing eye contact and kissed the side of her neck, just above her shoulder, eliciting another soft sound from her. Stiles felt locked in place by Derek’s heavy-lidded gaze despite his protestations of departure. He finally managed to lift one foot and slide it back when Derek spoke again.

“You could do that. Or,” Derek’s voiced deepened into an authoritative growl, “you could come. Here.”

Heat surged through him and Stiles’ last truly coherent thought for quite a while was that he was glad he had worn his red and white baseball shirt because Lydia once said it emphasized his shoulders. He was vaguely aware of kicking off his shoes and falling to his knees on a suddenly appearing pillow, then he was running his hands up Braeden’s inner thighs, stroking satiny skin. He looked up at her for permission and she nodded emphatically.

“Yes, yes, Stiles, yes!”

He leaned in and kissed her belly, nuzzling her navel, and then nibbled and licked and kissed his way lower. The scent rising off of her was incredible, rich and somehow savory and Stiles had to gulp back some of the moisture that flooded his mouth as he breathed it in. Plum and salt bloomed on his tongue as he teased her clit, his thumbs holding her open for him, her legs already spread wide across Derek’s sturdy thighs. 

A hand gripped each shoulder and then another buried itself in his hair and, muzzily, Stiles knew that it was Derek’s hand that was gently guiding him closer still, pulling him oh so slowly in as he delved into Braeden’s depths, and he grunted like he’d been punched when he realized Derek’s hardness was already buried there. The hand eased its gentle pressure as Stiles pulled back, but he just needed a little space to pull his arm down and press his hand hard against his own erection before he dove back in with redoubled eagerness.

Plum and salt and a smoky peat. Stiles wrapped his other arm around Braeden and Derek, sliding against impossibly smooth skin, gripping hard muscle as he lapped and sucked at the spot where they joined. He followed their movements, licking up as Derek withdrew, pulling tight with each thrust, taut silk sliding past his lower lip. 

Braeden moved her hand from his shoulder to join Derek’s in Stiles’ hair, pressing him closer still and her soft moans rose steadily in pitch with the speed of her hips, a steady counterpoint of breathless little cries. Derek moved his hand back to her breast, pulling her close and she gasped and reached back with her other hand, clutching his hair, guiding him back to the unscarred side of her neck, where he nuzzled and licked as he first teased and then more roughly thumbed across her nipples.

Braeden felt strung between two poles, stretched tight and stuffed full, every sense sparking with pleasure as they surged together, Stiles’ clever tongue striking like flint to Derek’s steel, and they were setting her on fire. She rolled her hips and tried to rock up faster, but she was pinned and helpless between the two of them, locked to the implacable pace Derek was setting, a pace that just kept them from reaching the flashpoint. Gradually, she stopped trying to hold in the involuntary sounds being pulled from her, her cries becoming a steady ululation until at last he drove them forward faster and faster and she thought she would fly apart if they weren’t holding her together. She crested, her climax washing over her like a wave, and Derek followed closely, his spine locking tight as he drove her hips down against him again and again and then just held her almost crushingly to his chest.

Warm hands rubbed soothingly up and down her trembling thighs and she managed to lift her head and looked down into wide, awe-stricken eyes, Stiles’ face aglow as if he had been to the mountaintop. 

“That was so hot!” he breathed, pupils so blown his eyes looked black.

Braeden reached down and took his face between her hands, gently drawing him up to her until they were nose to nose, Stiles going a little cross-eyed, and then she took his mouth in a manner very like the way he had just been familiar with the rest of her. She lapped her own flavor from his swollen pink lips, chasing his mobile tongue back into his mouth and sucking on its strawberry plumpness. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she locked him down and plundered to her heart’s content, Derek seeming happy to run his hands over both of them like he was trying to convince himself they were really there.

Derek gnawed gently on the back of Braeden’s neck, running his hands through first one head of hair and then over the other, squeezing a bicep here and a thigh there, until their combined movements, slight as they were, caused him to slip free. He heard Stiles’ breath hitch and decided it was time to let him get a little air, so he wrapped his arms around them and picked them both up, laying them back upon the big bed. Derek kicked aside the pillow he had tossed down to save Stiles’ knees and climbed in after them, Braeden on one side and Stiles in the middle, Derek propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at them both. 

Stiles looked up at him, his expressive face able to convey his building confusion and unabated lust without words. But this was Stiles, so of course there were words.

“Derek! Hi! I…what…what is happening? I didn’t even know you were here and then…you were…and Braeden was…and we, what did we just do? I shouldn’t be here! I should…go?” 

Stiles began to sit up and Derek set his hand on his chest and encouraged him to lie back down.

“Stiles. Look at me.” And Stiles locked on to his face like a targeting radar. “Do you trust me?”

Stiles subsided back on the bed and stared up at Derek, eyes wide and earnest. “You know I do.”

Derek felt a burst of warmth at the ease with which Stiles said those words. “Okay, then, just relax and let us take care of you for a while.”

Braeden cuddled in closer and nuzzled Stiles’ ear, Stiles almost reflexively wrapping an arm around her, but he wasn’t quite ready to surrender.

“When you say ‘take care of’, what exactly do you mean?”

Derek traced a meandering path across Stiles’ chest, down his surprisingly taut stomach, and then rested his hand over the rather impressive bulge in his khakis.

“I mean, let us take care of this. If you want us to.”

“If I want. So I have a choice.”

Derek let himself grip that bulge just a moment longer, than pulled his hand reluctantly away (though not without getting a good idea of exactly what was hidden there). The tiny whimper that escaped Stiles was encouraging, but Derek forced himself to wait. The thrumming current of want coursing through him wasn’t helping, though.

“Of course you have a choice. What do you want, Stiles?”

“I…Derek, I don’t know. I feel…,” Stiles twitched his gaze away and then back again. “I didn’t think you felt that way about me. You…want me?” The disbelief in his voice was disturbing. Derek didn’t like it.

He dipped his head down, brushing his cheek against Stiles’, then pulled back to look into his face again, trying to pour all of his tangled heart into his words.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

Braeden chimed in suddenly. 

“I didn’t, not when we first met, but damn, you’ve grown up good, Stiles. Very, very good.” 

She let her hand roam his chest, brushing teasingly close to his nipples, already straining against the soft cotton pulled tight across them.

“Oh God.” Stiles craned his head up to watch her for a second, then let it flop back so he could look Derek in the face again. Derek let a little smile creep through and Stiles groaned.

“I can’t think straight with you looking at me like that!”

“Good,” Derek murmured in his ear. “I don’t want you to think straight.”

“Oh, the wolfman has jokes. Yeah, I’m starting to get that you’re not as straight as I always thought. But you never, we never…”

“Stiles.” Derek caught Stiles’ lower lip in his teeth for a second and tugged gently, before pulling back. “It was never the right time. But it is now. Don’t you think? Please say yes. Please.” Derek couldn’t stop the slight note of desperation that slipped in to his voice.

Stiles’ eyes had regained that fully blown look and he nodded slowly. 

“Yeah. Yes, if that’s what you want. I want you.” He turned his head to look at Braeden and then back to Derek. “Holy shit, of course I want you. Both of you!”

Derek let that rare, huge grin take over his face and, to Stiles, it seemed like the sun had just come out after a rainstorm.

Derek rubbed his face against the tender skin of Stiles’ throat (soft, his beard was so soft!) and murmured to his clavicle, “We’re going to take such good care of you!”

Braeden made a noise of concurrence and with deft fingers unfastened Stiles’ pants one-handed. The other she had twined in his hair and with a gentle, yet firm, grip, slowly pulled his head back, putting his neck on full display for Derek as she simultaneously released his straining dick to the air. She cooed in delight at its enthusiastic emergence.

“Oh, Derek, look! It’s a pretty one!”

Derek paused in his aggressive marking up of Stiles’ neck to glance down and immediately took on such a look of avarice Stiles had to glance down to see what was causing it, straining slightly against Braeden’s hold on his hair. Braeden wrapped her fingers around his length and gave it a long, slow stroke and Derek abandoned Stiles’ neck to slither closer. Pushing fabric down and out of his way, he pressed his face right against the join of leg and body and breathed in deeply.

Stiles giggled. “Dude, are you huffing me?”

Derek reached up and put his hand over Stiles’ face, pushing him back flat on the bed, as he continued to rub his face in the depths of the most amazing scent. He wasn’t going to stop until he’d imprinted it permanently on his synapses, until he’d figured out what it reminded him of: fresh bread, petrichor, pine needles…home. It smelled like home. Derek lifted his head up and stared at Stiles.

Once more, Stiles resisted Braeden’s easy grip on his hair and lifted his head, locking eyes with Derek. Derek who was staring at him wide- eyed, mouth slightly open, about as gob-smacked as Stiles had ever seen him.

“What? Did I miss a spot when I showered?” He frowned slightly as Derek just continued to stare at him. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, Derek swarmed back up to him and grabbed his face with both hands, still staring into his eyes. 

“Stiles,” he murmured, then ever so gently, he kissed him, softly, slowly, then deeper, until it almost seemed as if he were trying to crawl inside. Stiles felt a sudden wave of warmth wash over him and he moaned and reached up with his free hand and buried it in Derek’s hair. 

Braeden abandoned Stiles’ hair to push up his shirt and start worrying delicately at his nipple. The sudden rush of cool air and hot mouth on his skin caused Stiles to gasp slightly and Derek pulled back from the lease he seemed to be about to take out on Stiles’ mouth to see what she was up to. 

Apparently inspired by her example, he immediately set to on the other side of Stiles’ chest, threading one hand into his hair and reaching down with the other to fondle, well, everything lower down. Lightly scratching through the patch of hair in the center of his chest, fitting his fingers against his ribs, rubbing the pad of his thumb into his navel, then trailing along the fuzzy path arrowing further down, Derek’s hand kept exploring until, after squeezing his thigh, it wormed down into his pants and nestled there like it had found a home.

Laid out flat on Derek’s wide bed, each arm pinned by a warm body, Stiles was floating in a haze of sensations. Each nipple was engulfed in wet heat, but where one was being licked and swirled, the other was being suckled like something was actually going to come out of there. Braeden’s hot little hand was teasing him with barely-there touches while Derek’s hot, large hand was cradling his balls like they were precious Fabergé eggs.

Stiles stared up at the high, hazy ceiling of the loft and gulped air. He didn’t understand how this was happening, didn’t really know how he had ended up here, but he knew he didn’t want it to stop. A sparkling effervescence bubbled along his nerve endings, swirling and coiling through his limbs, in his chest, and he wrapped an arm around each of the weights holding him down, Braeden’s lithe form on one side, Derek’s wild heat on the other, and held on tightly as an unbearable lightness seemed about to lift him up in spite of them.

He must have made some kind of noise, because just when he thought he might just go off like a Mentos in a coke, Derek was lying on top of him, a heavy, warm weight all along him, and the pressure knocked back about three notches. Derek stroked his face and peppered it with kisses as he crooned to him, “We’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

Then, somehow, like a highly trained pit crew, they had him stripped, Braeden peeling his baseball shirt over his head and Derek skinning down his khakis, shorts, socks like they were barely afterthoughts, cobwebs to be brushed aside. Then Braeden was astride his belly, offering him her gorgeous breasts and he was taking them in his hands, their smooth heft a delight to his palms, and bringing them to his lips, tongue tingling to taste, to lash at the tender tips in a parody of punishment, first one, then the other, thumb rubbing in the moisture left on the first. Braeden threw back her head and little panting moans pushed past her lips as she squirmed against him. The bubbly feeling began to build again as she looked down at him, large dark eyes intense as she gripped his sides and murmured, “Yeah, Stiles, suck me. Suck me so good!”

Stiles could feel her heat on his belly and he rolled his hips up as he lavished her plush peaks with attention. He tried to watch her face, but the sparkles were starting to fill his vision and he shuddered, the weird weightlessness coming back, but a welcome warmth came over his legs and a wet, tight heat enveloped his cock and Stiles almost whited out at the enormity of sensation as Derek swallowed him down like he was starving for it, like he was the first meal he’d had in days. 

Gulping and panting, Stiles tried to fulfill his duties to those beautiful bouncing breasts, licking and sucking as if to save his life, but the coiling and bubbling was boiling up his spine, spilling up his perineum, he was going to…

A stern tug on his balls, and the boiling was back to simmering and Stiles nearly wailed with frustration. Wasn’t he being good? Wasn’t he doing what they wanted?! Braeden kissed his distressed face, petting the sides of his neck, repeating Derek’s line, “We’ve got you, don’t worry!” And then she was levitating, oh, Derek was lifting her, lifting her up and setting her right down on Stiles’ hysterically straining dick and oh yes, yes, the silken warmth of her, the wonderful weight pinning him back to the bed, and the intense simmering backed off a little more, letting pure pleasure roll over him, warm, syrupy waves of absolute bliss. 

Derek swung up behind Braeden, spreading his knees until his erection was tucked under the crease of her ass and his own ass was against Stiles’ upper thighs. Watching over her shoulder as she braced her hands on Stiles’ chest, her dark fingers a sharp and lovely contrast against that pale skin, he wrapped one arm around her under her breasts and spread his other hand against the slight swell of her stomach, pressing slightly down and in. Moaning at the added pressure, she threw her head back, nearly clocking him in the face, but he just chuckled darkly and trapped her neck, nuzzling and lipping and nipping as he held her tightly against him. He scraped his teeth over the thick scar tissue there and she shuddered and panted.

He could feel them both straining to move against him, against each other, but he denied them for just a moment, reveling in his power. Just for a moment, though. Before their combined moans of protest could gain any real volume, he began to move, using his whole body to work Braeden’s hot, wet, dripping pussy down on Stiles’ admittedly very pretty cock, thrusting his own dick down into that tight, hot space just beneath those tender, swollen balls, balls that had to be fit to bursting after having been twice denied. 

Derek had the head of his dick snugged right up in there, pushing against that smooth taint as he fucked Stiles with Braeden’s body. He could feel him as he pressed on her belly, rubbing her walls from both sides. Braeden was starting to shake with effort as she tried to force him to move faster, her cheeks grasping his shaft as she flexed and strained, but he wouldn’t be rushed. Something was building in the air, something he could just barely sense. It had started with Stiles’ unexpected entrance and it was slowly compounding, swelling, a gradual crescendo. Stiles had his head thrown back, straining and heaving as he tried to thrust faster, bucking up with all he had, but Derek just rode him down, pressing Braeden firmly onto him, letting his own weight bear them down as he kept control of the rhythm, forcing them to the pace he chose.

And oh, it was good. Deep, slow thrusts, pulling back just a little, just as slowly, to thrust back in even deeper, pushing Braeden forward and pulling her back in perfect tandem, feeling both of them strive and grunt, trying to wrest control until, finally, the rhythm he was searching for caught and they gave in, a slow rolling, harmonious wave that built and built, a little higher, a little faster, their bodies joined as a single unit, a gestalt of limbs and hearts and desire. Their combined scents filled his nose with a heady cocktail of musk that teased his control until his fangs were itching in his gums to drop, to take, to bite, to claim….

Derek wrested his face away from Braeden’s neck and let his forehead drop to her nape, tightening his arms around her until she gave a little squeak. He managed to ease up a little then, but the powerful scents were clouding his brain and his usual ironclad control was turning into so much tissue paper. His eyes were starting to flash when Braeden threw her arms back and up, grabbing his head and pulling it up where she could twist and kiss, locking onto his mouth with hers and startling the shift back.

The driving rhythm he had set only faltered for a moment, then long fingers gripped his sides and pulled him back into it like they had never stopped. Derek let his hips be manhandled back into the pace, delighting in the easy strength in those hands as they coaxed them back into the rocketing tempo. 

Braeden kept one hand on his head and braced herself against Stiles’ chest with the other as they quickened together. She had nearly climaxed when Derek had squeezed her so tightly and now she was starting to tremble all over even as she rocked harder against Stiles, chasing the dragon of an orgasm she had glimpsed in that moment. Stiles was somehow managing to lift them both up with the force of his thrusts and the power she felt under and behind her was intoxicating. So much power all around her, and she had power of her own, squeezing down and pressing tighter to hear tandem gasps of appreciation. She could feel the pressure rising and she snapped her hips even harder, Derek’s hand warm and tight against her belly, Stiles hot and hard inside her as she began to unravel. 

Stiles was flying. The fizzy feeling was back even stronger and he would be worried about leaving permanent dents in Derek’s hips if he weren’t a werewolf, but he had to hang on so he wouldn’t float away. Even with his eyes shut tight, he could see the sparkles anyway, and the warm waves of pleasure were now crashing over him, a dull roaring sound in his ears building and building until he wanted to ask the others if they heard it, too, but when he opened his mouth, it was only to suck in air as he realized he had been holding his breath. He kept pushing up, up into that amazing silken heat, that incredible pressure beneath, the three of them surging together as one piece, tighter, faster, until they achieved a harmonious synchronicity. For one long, perfect moment, they were one creature, one being, each to each, breath and blood and bone all one glorious entity that rose on the swell of a enormous wave, rising and rising until, with a flash of light, they crested together, a long, curling rush that pulsed and shook and shuddered them back into themselves.

Stiles came back to himself slowly. Back from where, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed very far away at the moment. All his limbs felt like taffy. Warm, stretchy taffy. Derek carefully unwound from around Braeden and she slowly curled forward, coming to rest on Stiles’ chest, where she snuggled down as if for a nap. Derek ran one hand down her bare back, looking like he kind of wanted to join her there. Stiles spread his arms wide (like stretched taffy wide) in invitation and Derek locked his huge, leaf-green eyes on his as if he weren’t sure that he meant it.

“C’mon, wolfie, snuggle time.” 

Keeping his eyes on Stiles the whole time, Derek gingerly, yet still gracefully, swung his leg back across and, in an oddly tentative way, lay down against Stiles’ side, finally breaking his gaze to rest his head on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles managed to get his taffy arms to cooperate enough to get one around Braeden and the other around Derek, stroking his hand over Derek’s hair in the process. 

He almost missed the tiny, tiny little shiver that followed, but he didn’t, and being who he was, he couldn’t help repeating the gesture to see if he could replicate the result. Bingo. Not only did he get the tiny, tiny shiver again, an almost equally tiny little sigh came along with it. Somehow, he managed to get his arm wrapped around those very broad shoulders (probably because it was a taffy arm now) and still reach that thick head of soft, black hair so he could scritch gently with his fingers.

With a slightly bigger sigh and another tiny shiver, Derek actually snuggled down, rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ chest. Stiles grinned to himself as he continued to scritch and began to entertain himself with visions of wrapping long, taffy-stretchy arms around and around the three of them.


	2. I'm Not Glowing, You're Glowing!

The next thing Stiles knew, he was waking up to the sound of someone’s stomach growling.  


The three of them had turned as they napped, nesting together like spoons, and Stiles got a face full of Braeden’s hair as she squirmed away from his admittedly-probably-tighter-than-was-comfortable hold. She sat up, scrubbed her hands over her face and hair, and crawled out of the bed, mumbling something unintelligible, but that probably meant bathroom from the direction she was heading.  


Stiles was pleased to find his limbs had regained their customary rigidity. The weird energy hadn’t gone anywhere, though, and Stiles stretched out as well as he could with the stranglehold Derek had around his middle, flexing his toes and shaking out his hands.  


Derek grumbled, tightening his grip even more and seemingly trying to burrow into the back of Stiles’ neck. As adorable as that was, Stiles was starting to find it difficult to breathe and wriggled over onto his back. Derek finally lifted his head and, looking down into Stiles’ face, blinked slowly several times.  


“Stiles,” he breathed.  


Stiles looked back up into those gorgeous green eyes and let five or six joking responses slide away. In fact, for several seconds, he just stared, enjoying this rare moment of closeness between the two of them that didn’t include violence. Or danger. Or violence and danger. With a side of terror. Yeah, he wasn’t missing any of that!  


His uncustomary moment of quiet reflection let Derek continue.  


“You’re really here! I thought it might’ve been a dream,” — his voice softened in wonder —“but you’re really here!”  


“Dream about me often, do you?” Stiles nearly bit his tongue, but it was too late, the snark had escaped. But somehow, magically, Derek didn’t close off or snarl or push away. Instead, he ducked his head a little bashfully and gave a small, slightly sad sounding chuckle.  


“Yeah, I guess I do. But this is the first time you’ve actually been here when I woke up.”  


“You…,” Stiles pulled his head back in astonishment. “You actually dream about me?”  


Derek looked up. “All the time.”  


Stiles snorted. “Since when?”  


“Remember Mexico?”  


“Which time? The time we rescued your bizarrely de-aged self from beneath an ancient church or the time you…,” Stiles paused to gulp uncomfortably. “The time I thought you died?”  


“I didn’t die. I evolved.”  


“Yes, I know. Full wolf shift, very rare, blahblahblah, we are all very proud. I thought you were **dying**.”  


“I know. I’m sorry. I-I thought so, too.”  


The remembered enormity of that moment held them both in a fragile bubble of reverie. Until Derek broke it with a sudden, brilliant grin.  


“But I didn’t. And now here I am. Alive and evolved.”  


“Okay. Okay, and yes, I am very glad you didn’t die. **And** that you evolved. Now what does all that mental and emotional, not to even mention physical, trauma have to do with dreaming about me?”  


“Right before, when…when Kate took me, she nearly killed me. I lost consciousness for a while. And then I dreamed about you.”  


“Me.” Stiles pulled back and made a face.  


“We were in a locker room. I asked you how I could tell whether I was dreaming or not and you said…”  


In the same breath, they both said, “Count your fingers. In dreams you have extra fingers.”  


Startled, Derek stared at Stiles, who stared back.  


“How did you know that?” Derek whispered.  


“I-I just, that’s what I did. When the nog- when I wasn’t sure I was awake or dreaming, I would count my fingers.” Stiles held out his hand.  


Derek almost reluctantly turned to look, afraid to discover this was all a dream after all, but there was Stiles’ normal hand, five exquisite, long fingers on display at the end of it. But his right hand was wrapped around the wrist, almost as if he remembered Derek grabbing him there.  


Derek looked back up at Stiles, but Stiles’ attention was elsewhere now, his eyes huge and mouth slightly open. Derek turned to see what he was looking at and instantly understood. Braeden was strutting toward them, gloriously naked and nakedly glorious.  


“Wow!” Stiles breathed out reverently.  


Braeden hadn’t quite staggered on her way to the bathroom, but it was a near thing, what with her legs having to relearn how to walk. She’d made it with only a slight wobble, glad to take a seat and relieve herself, marveling at the amount of fluids leaving her body. Them werewolf boys really pumped the water from the well! And no-longer-scrawny-or-underage human boys apparently were fully loaded as well. She briefly considered a shower, then just found a washcloth and turned on the sink faucet, splashing a little on her face as she waited for it to warm up. She needed to get back to her boys!  


Wetting the cloth with the now-warm water, she ran it over her face and neck, under her arms, and then, gently, between her legs. She felt a little swollen and tender there, but really just enough to be slightly extra-sensitive, she realized, as she slowed her movements even further. The warm cloth felt really good, almost too good, and she flashed back to the moment when Derek had swung up behind her as she rode Stiles. For a second, she had thought he was going to try to enter her backdoor, even though they had had a discussion about that. She was not ready, would probably never be ready, to take that hogleg he was packing in that manner!  


But now, as she gently cleansed her tender bits, that idea didn’t sound so outlandish, especially if…a brief fantasy of being sandwiched between them again, this time riding Derek with Stiles behind, caused her to gasp and throw her head back as she pressed against herself a little harder. The reflected movement in the mirror caught her glance and for just second she could have sworn she saw a golden flash of light deep within her eyes. Startled, she stopped her pleasurable ablutions and leaned against the sink, staring into the mirror, but seeing no hint of what could have caused it. After a moment, she shrugged. A trick of the light, she thought, then snickered to herself at her own pun.  


Another quick pass with the cloth and then she grabbed a fresh one, wet it with the warm water, and headed back to her boys.  


The boys seemed to be having a fairly serious tête-à-tête, she noticed, so it was gratifying to see Stiles nearly swallow his tongue as she approached the bed. She struck a pose near the foot, one hand on the swell of her hip and the other holding the washcloth aloft.  


“Anyone up for a wipe down?” she quipped.  


Derek narrowed his eyes at her. “You didn’t shower.”  


She narrowed her eyes right back at him. “Nooo, I didn’t. Did you want me to?”  


A slight smile quirked his lips and the low “Nooo,” he returned was almost a growl. 

Both of them had turned to fully face her and Derek actually made grabby hands at her. “Come here.”  


Braeden tossed the cloth at his face, which he naturally caught with ease.  


“Remove a couple of layers of bodily fluids first, please.”  


“Why? You didn’t seem to mind when we were acquiring them.”  


“Nope, but let’s just try to keep the layers down.”  


Despite his mild protest, Derek was already using the cloth to wipe first his face, and then to Stiles’ apparent startlement, Stiles’.  


With an efficiency a registered nurse might have envied, he had both of them swabbed down to an acceptable level of cleanliness in moments, Stiles gasping as his really quite attractive dick was adeptly swiped from balls to tip. Performing the same smooth motion on his own, Derek tossed the cloth into a convenient corner and again made grabby hands at her.  


Smiling, she raised one finger. “Have we hydrated?”  


Pouting a little at being thwarted, Derek reached down into a small chest on the floor beside the bed and pulled out a refillable water bottle, handed it to Stiles, then pulled out two more, tossing one to her. Without losing eye contact, he proceeded to basically shotgun his.  


Smirking, Braeden took a leisurely pull and then, noticing that Stiles was just holding on to his, she pointed at him with hers.  


“Drink up, sport. You’re going to need it.”  


Stiles finally managed to get his to his mouth and then began to drink greedily, as if just realizing how thirsty he was. Satisfied, Braeden took another swig of her drink and then leaned over to set hers on the floor next to the bed. No sooner than it had left her hand, Derek had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the bed on top of him.  


“Impatient puppy!” she yelp-laughed as he pulled her close.  


“I’m no puppy. I’m the big, bad wolf and I’m going to eat you up!”  


“Promises, promises, you…ooooh!”  


Derek was making very good on his threat. Swiftly kissing down her neck, between her breasts, across her belly, he lifted her easily up, until she was basically kneeling on his shoulders as he leaned back against a pile of pillows and began to eagerly lick and suck her. Braeden had to brace her arms against the wall at the head of the bed to keep from flopping face-first into it. At least, she might have, if Derek hadn’t such a firm hold on her waist as he ministered to her, caressing her sensitive parts with his talented tongue until she was simply shaking with pleasure. God, he was good at that! Sighing with delight, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the moment.  


Vision firmly trained on the supreme quality porn in front of him, Stiles finished off the bottle of…water? He wasn’t sure what it was, actually, but it was wet and he was incredibly thirsty, and Derek and Braeden were having extremely beautiful sex right in front of him, so he found it hard to care. Capping off the empty bottle, he leaned across Derek’s legs to set it on the floor and found himself face to dick with an extremely impressive werewolf erection.  


Entranced, he scooted around to lie between Derek’s outstretched legs and placed a hand on either furry thigh to get a closer look. It wasn’t really the first time he’d ever seen it, various circumstances having led to destroyed clothing, toxic clothing that had to be removed hurriedly, poorly timed shape-shifting, etc., but it was the first time he had a chance to really admire it up close. Well-shaped, uncut, and just the right amount of veiny-ness, it rose proudly above a generous pair of balls and arched back toward the flat abdomen behind it.  


Looking up the long stretch of said abdomen, Stiles saw Derek move his hands from Braeden’s waist to her luscious posterior. As she surged upward, Stiles caught a glimpse of the bottom of Derek’s chin, glistening with her juices. A sudden desire to know what that felt like, to have folds and velvet and be licked to openness, to have organic slickness sliding down your lover’s face…for a moment, Stiles felt like he was in two places at once, like Derek was holding his ass, licking him open, it was like he was getting two stations at once, or some kind of double exposure, then he shook his head and it was gone.  


Stiles flexed his fingers against warm skin, grounding himself in the feel of those sturdy, hairy thighs until his head stopped spinning. The sparkling feeling was trickling all along his spine and he shook his head again like a wet dog. Licking his lips, he dragged his gaze back down the length of Derek’s torso, catching on the peaks of his nipples, raking over the eight-pack on display. Once again, his attention centered on the jutting maleness in front of him and a nearly overwhelming desire to taste filled him.  


Not that he was fighting it very hard.  


Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against it, taking in the symphonic blend of all their smells. They smelled so good together that he had to taste. One tiny lick and suddenly he had the best all day sucker he’d ever known. He didn’t waste any time trying some kind of fancy deep-throating, he just got his mouth around the head and started blissfully sucking.  


Derek’s eyes flew open as slick, wet heat surrounded his cock. Reflexively, his grip on Braeden tightened until a sharp tap on the top of his head made him relax his hands back to a more reasonable hold. A slight tug on his hair reminded him of the task at tongue, so to speak, and he resumed his attentions to her. That was no hardship. She always tasted wonderful and now the combined traces of Stiles and himself added an unexpected spice that he definitely wanted more of.  


Working his tongue up into her delicate folds, following every last hint of that intoxicating flavor, he lifted his gaze up the long, delicious line of her body, filling his field of vision with the deceptively soft curves of her form. He felt surrounded and cradled by his little pack of two, their heat and energies filling him with a strange, stinging longing to somehow be even closer, closer even than filling their mouths with each other.  


Sealing his lips over her mons, Derek suckled tenderly on Braeden’s swollen clit and squeezed her ass again, more gently this time, sucking and kneading in time to the rhythm of their blood, the same rhythm Stiles was building on, swirling and licking and sucking, all while scritching some intricate pattern onto Derek’s thighs, lighting up all his nerve endings with his fingertips and lips and tongue. Derek had to clench down to keep from thrusting up into that divine wet heat. He was enveloped in an intense desire to watch those petal pink lips parting over him, see them drag and catch along the length of him. He cast his gaze upwards again just as Braeden turned her head to look back over her shoulder and, for a second, it seemed like he could see her and also Stiles, pretty mouth stretched and sealed tight over Derek’s dick, eyes closed as he moaned around it, writhing and…sparkling?  


Derek blinked twice and the moment was gone, but he wrapped his legs around Stiles’ long body, just to feel his solid shape against him as Braeden pulsed against his tongue and more of her sweetness flooded his mouth. Stiles was hanging on to Derek with both arms now and the hot tunnel of his mouth was confusing Derek’s body as to whether he was going down on Braeden or fucking her. It didn’t really matter, he was going to come soon, either way.  


Braeden couldn’t stop moaning, panting and shaking. Damn, but that ‘wolf was good with his mouth! Every time they did this, it was better than the last, and the last was always spectacular. She was starting to suspect she was ruined for regular sex. She’d had to take one hand off the wall to give him a smack when he got too enthusiastic with the butt-squeezing, but that thick, black hair had felt so good that she left it there, tangling the silky strands in her fingers. She tugged a little and felt him redouble his ministrations and she gasped with pleasure.  


The black fur of his beard was brushing against her thighs, but it was so soft she didn’t worry about any burn. The warm animal feel of it was thrilling and she caught Derek’s gaze with a grin, a rush of affection for her wolfy lover filling her chest. She glanced back over her shoulder to check on Stiles and a fresh flood of arousal sent heat all through her body as she saw him laid out between Derek’s thighs, pretty pink mouth stretched and sealed tight over Derek’s dick, eyes closed as he moaned around it, writhing and…sparkling?  


Braeden was going to say something about the fizzy-looking light that was beginning to surround Stiles, but even as she tried to form words, Derek wrapped his legs around him and it seemed to disappear. And then he did something incredible with his tongue and squeezed her butt just right and she was coming in long waves, involuntarily little jerks shaking her body as she nearly howled with pleasure.  


Hearing her, Derek couldn’t hold back his own release and tried to warn Stiles by patting his rear with his toes, but Stiles just held on tighter and sucked harder. With his blood roaring in his ears, Derek came so hard that he would have howled, too, except his mouth was still full of Braeden.  


Stiles was swimming in his own little world, completely gone on Derek’s dick. He wasn’t really aware that he was humping the bed and when Derek started bopping his butt, he didn’t really even notice.  


Until aforementioned dick went off in his face!  


Jizz flooded his mouth, ran down his chin, choking him until he managed to swallow, but Stiles couldn’t stop. Instead, he swallowed again and again, working himself back down until he could go no farther, his throat spasming against the intrusion. His brain whited out and he was nearly mindless with lust, writhing his hips as he rubbed himself against the smooth sheets, sucking and swallowing and humping, his release coiled tightly at the base of his spine, building and building until Derek squeezed him tight with his legs, and then it suddenly unlocked, shooting through and out of him like bottle rockets flaming through a Fourth of July night, pinwheeling through the blackness behind his tightly closed lids.  


Finally, with one last, gentle lick, he let Derek slide out of his mouth and rested his head on a handy hip, panting heavily. The bed jostled for a moment, but Stiles just kept his eyes closed and tried to regain some kind of grasp on reality.  


Fingers combed through his hair and Stiles let himself relax into it. He still felt like he had sparks firing off under his skin, but that seemed to be slowly subsiding.  


Braeden leaned in close to his ear and whispered as she continued to stroke his hair, “Are you okay, honey?”  


Stiles nodded fervently, but kept his eyes closed and his face buried against Derek’s thigh.  


“Was that your first time doing that?” Braeden asked.  
Stiles nodded again, still trying to catch his breath, but big hands were catching him up under the arms and hauling him up along Derek’s body, up and up, up to where Derek’s lips began attacking Stiles’ mouth. Stiles had really just been planning to lie still long enough to stop twitching, but this was good, too.  


In fact, it was very, very good, Stiles realized, as Derek plundered his unresisting mouth. Even if it did sort of seem like he was taking measurements as to where to put the furniture.  


When, at last, Derek pulled back for a moment, Stiles felt like he’d been surveyed, measured, assessed, analyzed, and assayed for the gold content in his fillings (which he didn’t have any! Ha! Score for fluoridated water and diligent tooth hygiene!). But in a good way! Stiles licked his lips, chasing the flavor that Derek had left behind, the flavor of the three of them together. It was a good flavor. A very good flavor! But there seemed to be something missing. Stiles continued to chase it, closing his eyes and trying to determine what was needed for completeness…  


“…iles. Stiles!”  


Stiles blinked open his eyes to stare into Derek’s green ones.  


“Hm?”  


“There you are. Are you all right?”  


Stiles grinned. “So very alright. Are you alright? You seem alright.”  


Derek rolled them over and stared down at Stiles. “Yes, I’m all right.”  
Stiles stared back. “Is Braeden alright?”  


Braeden popped up with another sports bottle. “Yes, Braeden is all right. Have a drink.”  


“Drinks all around! Alright, alright, alright!” Stiles made a half-hearted effort to sit up at the same time as he reached for the offered drink and ended up making a wild swing that didn’t come close. Braeden grabbed his hand and put the bottle in it, while Derek easily propped him up, pulling him back against his chest. “Whoa! Teamwork makes the dream work!”  


As Stiles giggled and struggled with the pull-top, Derek and Braeden exchanged glances. Using just his eyebrows, Derek managed to convey his concern and desire for Braeden to do something.  


Braeden had eyebrow game of her own and let him know that she was on it, but she also wasn’t the team nurse. Still, she took a moment to lean forward and check Stiles’ eyes. Before she’d done more than realize his pupils were blown so wide she felt like she could crawl into them, Stiles had leaned forward and captured her lips with a beguiling kiss. Her hands came up to cradle his jaw as his mobile lips pulled her in, that tricky tongue licking up into her mouth with surprising skill.  


For several long moments, all she was aware of was mouth and lips and teeth and tongue that filled and entranced her own. Her mind felt like it was buzzing with thousands of sleepy, friendly bees and she was fanned by their wings, sinking into their honey, drenched in its sweetness…  


A big hand touched her face, thumbing roughly over her cheekbone and she pulled back, blinking, wondering at the slight stickiness on her lips. More than a little dazed, she looked up at Derek and saw his eyes go wide with wonder.  


“Braeden! Your eyes! They’re glowing!”  


Startled, she made to pull back some more, but Stiles’ free hand landed on her other cheek and tried to pull her to him once more.  


“Pretty!” He giggled again. “I wasn’t aware you were a were, Braeden! What flavor are you?” He laughed louder and added, “Besides tasty!”  


Derek rumbled, “She’s not!” even as Braeden tried to marshal her scattered wits.  


“What do you mean, my eyes are glowing? And Stiles! Did you take something before you got here? Are you high?”  


Stiles practically fanned her with his lashes, he was blinking so fast. He lolled his head back so he could look up at Derek, grinning like he should be in on this joke, then lolled back like he didn’t have any bones in his neck. “Nooo, just my usual Adderall. I’m not really much of a recreatant, recreshant…” He stopped and then very carefully annunciated, “…recreational drug user. Why are your eyes flashking? Flashing. Why can’t I talk good?”  


Derek put his nose against Stiles’ neck and took a big sniff. Immediately his eyebrows drew down as his face tightened in concern. “Stiles, I think your blood sugar is crashing.”  


Keeping Stiles clasped to his chest, Derek quickly reached down to the side of the bed and fished around in a bag next to the ice chest, pulling out a fistful of protein bars. While he sliced one open with a single claw, Braeden directed the sports bottle in Stiles’ hand to his mouth. This one was definitely not water. It seemed to be Gatorade. Oh, cool, Blue Frost! His favorite!  


As soon as he’d glugged some of that down, Derek was sticking bits of sliced up bar into his mouth. As fast as he could chew one and open his mouth to ask questions, in popped another piece. Stiles bulged his eyes with frustration, but he could feel his thought processes clearing with every swallow, so he obediently chomped and chewed and gulped it all down as quickly as he could.  


When that bar ended and it looked like another was about to follow, Stiles turned his head in protest. “Time out, time out!”  
Both Derek and Braeden froze, their concerned gazes trained on him like laser sights. After a couple of deep breaths, he turned back to them. “Okay, give me another drink.”  


A couple more deep pulls of Blue Frosty goodness and Stiles could feel his keel coming back to even. This time when Derek nosed his neck and breathed him in, a slow tremor of arousal rolled over Stiles, but he forced that down for the moment, when all he really wanted to do was reach up and grab Derek and hold him there, let him rub that soft scruff back and forth until his neck was good and rosy, marked for all to see…with an effort, Stiles forced his thoughts back on track and pulled away.  


“What’s the verdict, doc? Am I going to play the piano again?”  


Derek gave him a lot of eyebrow at that remark, but he nodded. “You smell much better now.”  


And then he stuck his nose right back on Stiles’ neck. This time the tremor was a full-body shiver and he did reach up and grab Derek and hold him there. He’d completely lost the thread as to why that wasn’t just an absolutely brilliant idea when, in the process of rolling his head to the side to give better access, he opened his eyes to see Braeden watching them intently with sparkling eyes, and remembered the question he’d been trying to ask before the sugar crash emergency.  


“Okay, hold up.” He actually had to give a little tug on Derek’s thick, black, silky hair to get him to pause, which he did with a grumpy frown.  


“What.”  


“Were Braeden’s eyes flashing? Or was I hallucinating?”  


Derek was really giving the eyebrows a workout. First they went all the way up and then pulled in tight again to what Stiles thought of as his thinky face.  


“No, I saw it, too. Braeden? Did you feel anything?”  


Braeden was a little uncomfortable with the way they were both staring at her.  


“No, I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything except…” She paused, trying to force her fuzzy-feeling brain to think back. “Stiles was kissing me. And I felt…I don’t know. Something about bees and honey?”  


Derek looked at her assessingly and handed her another sports bottle. He hoisted one up as well and toasted her with it. “Drink up.”  


Braeden took a big drink. Ugh, Gatorade. Not her favorite. But she swallowed it down anyway.  


Derek sliced open a couple more bars and handed them out. Stiles decided that lounging against Derek’s chest and eating snack bars while watching Braeden eat snack bars was one of his new favorite activities. Right behind all the copious sex they’d been having. Still, there was a mystery to be solved.  


“Braeden, do you have any idea why your eyes might be flashing gold?”  


“No,” she said after she swallowed her mouthful. “But, I think, maybe, they did it before, while I was in the bathroom.”  


“Why didn’t you say…”  


“I thought it was a trick of the light or something. I don’t know. Why was Stiles glowing all over?”  


“What?! When?” Stiles sat up straight. “I was glowing?”  


“You saw it, too?” Derek kept one hand on Stiles’ shoulder and reached out and caught 

Braeden’s free one with his.  


“Saw it, too? How could you see it? I was blocking you!”  


“I don’t know, but I did.”  


“Okay, see what?!” Stiles flexed his fingers in frustration. He hated being out of the loop. He wanted in the loop!  


“Stiles, while you were going down on Derek, you were glowing.” Braeden was not really one to mince words.  


“Glowing? Glowing like how? Like, a light sheen of perspiration?” Stiles handed his empty bottle to Derek and shook his arms out to get rid of some the excess energy that was prickling through him.  


“No, actually glowing. You were giving off this fizzy-looking golden light.” Braeden handed her drink to Derek as well and he disappeared them down the side of the bed. He sat back up and pulled Stiles back against him and took Braeden’s hand again. Without seeming to be aware of it, she reached out and took Stiles’ hand in her other one. Immediately, the prickly feeling subsided. Stiles sighed in relief and drew Braeden toward him. They had some unfinished kissing to get back to.  


Derek went back to mouthing at the side of Stiles’ neck. He rubbed his beard back and forth just to see the skin pink up. Stiles shuddered and hunched his shoulder up to his ear, but then immediately dropped it down, blatantly offering his neck up again, even as he continued kissing Braeden. A thrill ran through Derek at such a raw presentation, followed closely by the sudden prickling heat of an imminent shift. Startled, he drew back. Or tried to. Stiles threw up his arm and pulled him back in with one of his unexpected moments of athletic grace, not once pausing his oscular ministrations to Braeden.  


For moment, Derek gave in, losing himself in scenting that smooth bit of neck that he had longed to nuzzle nearly since first sight. Stiles had thrown himself bodily between Derek and danger from the very beginning. Not always entirely willingly, and certainly not without complaint, but he’d done it, over and over, with little regard for his own safety…that gave him enough pause to pull back and try to martial his thoughts.  


Stiles wasn’t having any of that, though. He unlatched from Braeden to turn to him, a look of concern pulling at his mobile features.  


“No, no, no. Come back! Need more neck rubbin’s!”  


“Stiles, wait. We need to...mmmfff!”  


His lips made a very good argument. So good that Derek completely lost track for a moment. For a moment, he fell into a spiraling black universe, aware only of Stiles’ lips against his, Stiles’ and Braeden’s weight against him, holding him fast against the spinning cosmos. Then that prickling heat crawled over him again and he turned his head hard away, clenching his eyes, his jaw, his everything against the unsummoned shift trying to force its way out of his bones.  


Horrified at himself, he pulled in a deep breath through his nose, trying to settle the weirdly insistent change threatening to ripple over him, but the scents he’d hoped would calm him only made him spiral faster. He reached for his center to calm the wolf within, but there was none of the terror or rage that usually came with involuntary shifting, just a tight, swelling need that he couldn’t get a grip on.  


He felt Stiles twist in his arms and then hands were on either side of his face as Stiles called his name.  


“Derek. Derek! Baby, what’s wrong? Look at me!”  


It was the “baby,” more than the command, startling Derek into opening his eyes, but he felt the way Stiles started when he did and slammed them closed again.  


“No, Derek, it’s alright. I’m just not used to that color on you. Look at me!”  


Braeden reached around Stiles to put her hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Stiles,” she whispered, “what does orange mean?”  


Stiles just shook his head. “Don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Derek! What’s wrong?”  


Derek gritted his teeth as he felt his control slowly slipping away from him. “I’m shifting. I can’t control it. I can’t…I can’t keep from changing!” His fangs were already dropping, his nails lengthening, thickening. “You should get back!”  


Stiles kept his grip on Derek’s face, trying to turn him to back to them again. “Okay, no, just hang on. Are you feeling murderous or bitey?”  


Derek delivered as flat a look as he was capable of while his brow ridge was rearranging itself. “Bitey? Seriously, Stiles?”  


****

****

“I’m going to take that as a no?”  


“No, Stiles, I’m not feeling **bitey**. Or at least I **wasn’t**.”  


“Derek, if you need to change, change. It’s okay.” He held tighter as Derek tried to shake his head. “No, really. Listen. Listen!”  


Derek stilled, panting slightly as he struggled to pull his claws and fangs back into his body. Stiles gently turned his face back toward him and stroked his thumbs over the spot his eyebrows used to be.  


“One thing I have learned, when your body is trying to tell you something, listen. If your body is telling you it needs to shift, shift. We’re not in public. It’s just us. It’s okay.”  


“I don’t know why this is happening, why I can’t control it!”  


“Okay, we’ll figure this out. But I know you. You ignore your needs if you think it’s for someone else’s good. It’s not going to put us out if you shift.”  


“That’s good. Because I can’t stop it!” The shift spread over him like water through his fingers – fangs sharpening, jaw rearranging to accommodate the extra teeth crowding into his mouth, ears lengthening to points, on and on until his body had rearranged itself exactly how it wanted. The relief of no longer trying to hold back left him a little limp and he let his head loll back on the pillows with a sigh.  


Only to tense up again, because Stiles stopped the soothing stroking of his eyebrow ridges and started smoothing his thumbs over the extremely sensitive edges of his newly-pointed ears. Startled, Derek turned and looked up into his face, eyes wide.  


“There you are!” Stiles crooned happily. He was pretty much lying full on top of Derek, with Braeden wiggling over to his other side.  


“Shtiles, what are you…”, Derek had to close his eyes again as the sensation of long fingers stroking his ears sent a mighty shiver down his spine, but he forced them open again. “…what are you doing?”  


“Oh, I love that little lisp you guys get when you go full fang! Say my name again!”  


“Seriously, though,” Braeden said as she snuggled in. “What does orange mean?”  


Stiles stilled his stroking for a second and Derek immediately missed it, even though he’d just been fervently wishing it would stop so he could just think for a second.  


“I don’t know for sure, but I have an idea.”  


"Why are you talking about colors?” Derek very carefully enunciated the “s”. Stiles pouted. “I just had an uncontrollable shift! I haven’t lost control like that since I was twelve!” Stiles stared down at him, his expression the kind of thoughtful look that made Derek a little nervous. With that expression, it was impossible to tell if he was about to come up with something brilliant or crack a joke so lame it needed to be put down. But then the ear-stroking started up again and Derek forgot to worry.  


He should’ve worried.  


“Derek, do you know what color your eyes are?”  


“Yes. No. Why does everybody always ask me that? They’re mostly green, I think. I don’t spend a lot of time looking at them.”  


“Not your extremely pretty regular eyes. The color you flash when you wolf out.”  


“It’s not “wolfing out”. It’s shifting and I don’t have to shift to flash my eyes. And they’re gold now. They changed after Mexico.” Even to himself, he sounded a little petulant, but he had never really worked out how he felt about his eyes changing from blue to gold. It was nice to not be instantly marked as a killer the minute someone saw his eyes flash, but that blue also carried a lot of his personal history.  


“Okay, don’t freak out…”  


“Has anyone ever not freaked out when told not to freak out? Why shouldn’t If freak out? I’m already freaking out! I just shifted uncontrollably. I’m still on that!”  
Unbelievably, Stiles broke into a huge grin. “Oh my god, you are so adorable when you freak out!”  


Derek felt the growl building deep in his chest, but the next thing he knew, Stiles was kissing him, fangs and all.  


He’d never kissed someone while he had fangs. It was weird. Usually when he had fangs, it was not exactly a kissing situation, so it wasn’t weird that it had never come up. But Stiles was kissing him and Braeden was all snuggled down against the side of his chest like he wasn’t a dangerous monster of the night and the kissing was weird because of the fangs, but also it was really good and he’d been holding his arms out to the sides so he wouldn’t accidentally nick them with his claws, but now he could feel the shift slowly melting away, claws giving way back to blunt nails, and he carefully wrapped his arms around them both and just breathed them in.  


They were safe. They were pack. He would never hurt them, fangs or no.  


For a few more delicious moments, Stiles kept kissing him. Then he slowly drew back and smiled dopily at him.  


“Hi there.”  


Feeling much calmer, Derek smiled back at him, just a little.  


“So what does orange mean?” Braeden really wanted to know. She knew about gold and red and blue, but orange was a new one.  


Stiles gave Derek a little peck on the lips and then turned toward her. “I think maybe it means, that, maybe, possibly, I mean, I’m not sure, but…”  


Braeden reached up and grabbed his ear, gently but meaningfully. “Spit it out!”  


“ I think maybe…Derek’s Alphapowersarecomingback.”


End file.
